When I walked into the waiting room at Dana Farber, I noticed an older couple sitting together with some space between them. Her face pointed slightly away from him and turned toward a wordsearch book she was holding. She held a pen in her right hand but wasn’t using it. Her eyes appeared to be unfocused.
Settling into my seat, I heard his harsh tone.
“You are crying? You can cry when I croak.”
Without even thinking, I looked up. Since I was sitting in the section next to them, I wasn’t looking straight at them, but saw them both from the side. She was closer to me and I now noticed her shaking shoulders and realized she wasn’t saying a word.
He repeated his words again, in the same harsh tone. “You can cry when I croak.”
Of course, everyone has their own way of dealing with emotionally difficult issues, especially heartbreak, and no one way is right. I still felt this overwhelming desire to help somehow (see previous posts on stranger-friends!), to hold her hand or give her a hug, I also felt like they would both turn on me and that it wouldn’t help. This was a private matter playing out in a public setting.
Her shoulders were shaking while she still made no sound. Soon, the nurse called him to get his vital signs taken and she remained seated.
Right then, a man in his early 30’s sat down next to her.
“Hi,” he said kindly. “Can I sit here?”
I didn’t listen to the rest of their conversation and I don’t even know how much they actually spoke. I did see that she looked at him almost as one would look at a lifeline as he continued to slowly connect with her.
I don’t know about her, but I was grateful.
Adventures in Spiritual Living 
This sounds SO much like my family!
He was saying, I’m here now and *not* dead. When you cry because you’re thinking of a future time when I *will* be dead it makes us both sad, so please don’t cry. I don’t want us to be unhappy in these last precious moments that we have together.
As odd as it may sound, he WAS comforting her, in his own little way.
Nice perspective, Ann – thanks!